


Bombs, they’ll be the death of us

by robin_writes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bombs, Death, Nightmares, The Blitz, WW2, just brotherly love, no actual relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 14:39:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3123866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robin_writes/pseuds/robin_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the Blitz in Britain during WWII. Dean is having nightmares about the terrrible events that had fallen upon him during the Blitz. Pun intended. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bombs, they’ll be the death of us

“Sam! Sammy?!” I called out for my younger brother. “Sam?” The air raid siren went off about five minutes ago and I had turned the whole house over looking for him.  
“Dean?” I heard a whimper coming from my mum’s wardrobe.  
“Sammy!” I flung open the doors.  
-  
I stirred in my sleep.  
-  
“Dean!” I lifted my eight-year-old brother and ran out of the house. I didn’t breathe until we were in the air raid shelter.  
“Where’s mummy?” Sam said after a few minutes. As a boy of twelve myself, I was horrified to find myself parentless.  
“It’s okay Sammy!” I would say over and over from six pm until ten pm when Sam had fallen asleep on my chest. However, I continued to mutter even after he was deep asleep.  
-  
“Sammy?” Someone was shaking me awake.  
-  
I heard the creak of the door at about four in the morning. No bombs had fallen, but the world behind the door still smelt of smoke.  
“Dean?” A rasped voice called out. It was my dad.  
“Dad?”  
“Yes. Where’s your mother?” The world stopped. What?  
“I…I…I thought…I thought she was with you!” I finally breathed out, almost inaudible.  
“YOU WHAT?”  
“I thought she was with you.” I said quickly.  
“Tell me you have Sam!” He growled. I nodded and stood to attention.  
“What are you doing?” He asked as I placed my gas mask on.  
“I’m going out to find mum.”  
“Don’t bother, I will!” My father snatched the gas mask off my face and shoved me to the ground.  
-  
“I’m sorry, dad. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I knew what was coming next.  
-  
As I got up, I hit my father in the face. “I wish you never come back! You’re just a mean, old man! I hate you. I wish you’d go die and if it wasn’t for Sam, I’d kill you myself!” I spat at him. Every word I said made him flinch. They cut deeper than I could imagine and I knew that. But, I meant every word.  
“You will be obedient, boy.” He shouted as he left.  
Time went ever slowly as I stroked my brother’s long, dark hair. It was comforting and completely natural.  
The sirens just got louder and louder until I couldn’t hear my thoughts anymore. Good thing too. The bitterness of the acidic air could burn holes in any man’s tongue.  
-  
I cried in my sleep.  
-  
It was then I heard it. The end of my happiness. The bombs. Both synonyms in their own right.  
“Dean?” Sam’s voice shook.  
“It’s okay, Sammy. They can’t get us.” I lied because I had to.  
All the bombs had finished being dropped after about four hours. We stayed in the shelter for longer though. Again, my father pushed open the door.  
“Where’s mum?” I inquired.  
“I don’t know!” He started crying.  
“JOHN?” A familiar voice called. It was her, my mother. Her smile was infectious as both me and my dad glowed with smiles.  
He ran over to mother as I picked up Sam, waking him. My mother and father embraced and clasped hands. Mary, my mother, called me and Sam over, just as it hit again. Another bomb, landing just a few kilometres away. Mum and dad got hit in the blast.  
Once again, we were parentless. For good. Their hands still clasped, Mary and John perished.  
-  
“NO!” I cried out. I awoke, but still, my nightmares aren’t restricted to sleep.  
“Sam?” I got up.  
“Dean, what’s up?”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Why?” He was getting worried.  
“I should have let you sleep.”  
“What?”  
“Will you let me sleep?”  
“Sure.”  
“Don’t wake me up!”  
“Well…”  
“Ever! I don’t want to be woken up.”  
“Okay…”  
I stepped back into the bed and pulled out some Barbiturate. Ten grams. Fatal. I downed all of it and slept. Forever.


End file.
